In general, you are in a chaotic state
and your soul is full of agitation, for you are lost in
amazement at everything that goes on. Now you
call Dives lucky for his gold and his ivory and all his
luxury, and now you pity yourself for imagining that
you are alive when you are really nothing at all.
Sometimes, too, it comes into your head that you are
going to lead an enviable life, since you will revel in
all that and share in it equally; you expect to enjoy
perpetual Bacchic revels. Perhaps, too, pretty boys
waiting upon you and faintly smiling at you paint the
picture of your future life in more attractive colours,
so that you are forever quoting that line of Homer:

 Small blame to the fighters of Troy and the brightgreaved men of Achaea Said of Helen by the Trojan elders. They continue,; That for a woman like this they long have endured tribulations. Iliad 3, 157 Iliad3, 156 


that they endure great toil and suffering for such
happiness as this.
Then come the toasts, and, calling for a large bowl,



 

he drinks your health, addressing you as “the
professor” or whatever it may be. You take the
bowl, but because of inexperience you do not know
that you should say something in reply, and you get
a bad name for boorishness.

 

Moreover, that toast
has made many of his old friends jealous of you,
some of whom you had previously offended when the
places at table were assigned because you, who had
only just come, were given precedence over men
who for years had drained the dregs of servitude.
So at once they begin to talk about you after this
fashion: “That was still left for us in addition to
our other afflictions, to play second fiddle to men
who have just come into the household, and it is only
these Greeks who have the freedom of the city of
Rome. And yet, why is it that they are preferred
to us? Isn't it true that they think they confer a
tremendous benefit by turning wretched phrases?”’
Another says: “Why, didn’t you see how much he
drank, and how he gathered in what was set before
him and devoured it? The fellow has no manners,
and is starved to the limit; even in his dreams he
never had his fill of white bread, not to speak of
guinea fowl] or pheasants, of which he has hardly
left us the bones:”’ A third observes: “You silly
asses, in less than five days you will see him here
in the midst of us making these same complaints.
Just now, like a new pair of shoes, he is receiving acertain amount of consideration and attention, but
when he has been used again and again and is
smeared with mud, he will be thrown under the bed
in a wretched state, covered with vermin like the
rest of us.” 
Well, as I say, they go on about you indefinitely in

 

that vein, and perhaps even then some of them are
getting ready for a campaign of slander.
 

Anyhow,
that whole dinner-party is yours, and most of the
conversation is about you. For your own part, as you
have drunk more than enough subtle, insidious wine
because you ‘were not used to it, you have been
uneasy for a long time and are in a bad way: yet
it is not good form to leave early and not safe
to stay where you are. So, as the drinking is prolonged and subject after subject is discussed and
entertainment after entertainment is brought in (for
he wants to show you all his wealth!), you undergo
great punishment; you cannot see what takes place,
and if this or that lad who is held in very great
esteem sings or plays, you cannot hear; you applaud
perforce while you pray that an earthquake may
tumble the whole establishment into a heap or that
a great fire may be reported, so that the party may
break up at last.
 
So goes, then, my friend, that first and sweetest of
dinners, which to me at least is no sweeter than
thyme and white salt eaten in freedom, when I like
and as much as I like. 
To spare you the tale of the flatulency that follows
and the sickness during the night, early in the morning you two will be obliged to come to terms with
one another about your stipend, how much you are to
receive and at what time of year. So with two or
three of his friends present, he summons you, bids
you to be seated, and opens the conversation: ‘ You
have already seen what our establishment is like, and
that there is not a bit of pomp and circumstance in
it, but everything is unostentatious, prosaic, and ordiriary. You must feel that we shall have everything in

 

common; for it would be ridiculous if I trusted you
with what is most important, my own soul or that of
my children”—suppose he has children who need
instruction—‘“and did not consider you equally free
to command everything else. But there should be
some stipulation. I recognise, to be sure, that you
are temperate and independent by nature, and am
aware that you did not join our household through
hope of pay but on account of the other things, the
friendliness that we shall show you and the esteem
which you will have from everyone. Nevertheless,
let there be some stipulation. Say yourself what you
wish, bearing in mind, my dear fellow, what we shall
probably give you on the annual feast-days. We
shall not forget such matters, either, even though we
do not now reckon them in, and there are many such
occasions in the year, as you know. So, if you take
all that into consideration, you will of course charge
us with a more moderate stipend. Besides, it would
well become you men of education to be superior to
money.”

 

By saying this and putting you all in a flutter
with expectations, he has made you submissive
to him. You formerly dreamed of thousands and
millions and whole farms and tenements, and you are
somewhat conscious of his meanness; nevertheless,
you welcome his promise with dog-like joy, and think
his “We shall have everything in common”’ reliable
and truthful, not knowing that this sort of thing

 “Wetteth the lips, to be sure, but the palate it
leaveth unwetted. Iliad22, 495. 

In the end, out of modesty, you leave it to him. He


 

himself refuses to say, but tells one of the friends
who are present to intervene in the business and
name a sum that would be neither burdensome to
~ him, with many other expenses more urgent than this,
nor paltry to the recipient. The friend, a sprightly
old man, habituated to flattery from his boyhood,
says: ‘* You cannot say, sir, that you are not the
luckiest man in the whole city. In the first place
you have been accorded a privilege which many who
covet it greatly would hardly be able to obtain from
Fortune; I mean in being honoured with his company, sharing his hospitality, and being received into
the first household in the Roman Empire. This is
better.than the talents of Croesus and the wealth of
Midas, if you know how to be temperate. Perceiving
that many distinguished men, even if they had to
pay for it, would like, simply for the name of the
thing, to associate with this gentleman and be seen
about* him in the guise of companions and friends, I
cannot sufficiently congratulate you on your good luck,
since you are actually to receive pay for such felicity.
I think, then, that unless you are very prodigal,
~ about so and so much is enough”—and he names
a very scanty sum, in striking contrast to those
expectations of yours.